


All That You Are

by toasterness



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake AH Crew, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Self-Indulgent, but it's ok, it's only because of the pining, seriously it's mostly just michael being stubborn and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toasterness/pseuds/toasterness
Summary: "I've been better," Gavin eventually replied in a gravelly voice. "Feels a bit like I've been hit by a truck but I'm alive, so there's that."Michael helped him lean back again on his pillows. "I'd prefer it if you'd stay that way too.""You're getting soft in your old age."Only for you. "Yeah, well, at least I'm keeping my bullet wound scars to a minimum of five a year, unlike some people I know."ORGavin gets hurt and Michael deals with some complicated feelings.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	All That You Are

**Author's Note:**

> This was written while my next big fic was being beta-ed as a gift for gungschwa on Tumblr for leaving such amazing and inspiring tags on their reblogs of Bloodlines - seriously, I took screenshots of them to read them when I was feeling unmotivated <3
> 
> I'm still getting into the groove of writing Mavin, so this was kind of an exploration into that. I hope you like it!

Saturday evenings were, for the most part, set aside for having fun. They were usually filled with laughter and the sound of video games, or with everyone bundled up on the couches watching a dumb movie together. Work wasn't to be discussed, good food was to be eaten, and everyone would be all smiles. It was a sacred tradition to the Fakes and not much got in the way of it.

Which was part of the reason Michael was so pissed off; instead of spending his night crushing Jack at Mario Kart, or going shot for shot with Jeremy, he was keeping vigil at Gavin's bedside. Granted, it wasn't really Gavin's fault this time – wasn't his fault at all, if Michael was being honest – but that didn't change the fact that the Brit had only just been released from the hospital that afternoon after his week long stay in the ICU. Some bastard had managed to land a lucky shot during their last heist and hit Gavin in the chest, barely missing his heart and thoroughly scaring the absolute shit out of Michael. The only trustworthy doctors in Los Santos and an eight hour surgery had saved his life but Michael hadn't been that worried in a long, long time. This wasn't how he ever wanted to spend his Saturday night ever again.

"You don't have to stay," Gavin rasped from where he was laying propped up on his bed.

Michael didn't like the way the other man sounded and frowned down at him, tightening his hold on the blonde's hand. "I know I don't, asshole. Think I'd be here if I didn't want to be?"

The sounds of revelry could be heard from down the hall and Gavin looked forlornly at his closed bedroom door. "Yeah but-"

"Shut it, Gav."

It was just like Gavin to only think of others instead of himself, especially when he was the one out of commission. Michael would be an idiot if he didn't admit that this was one of the (many) reasons that he loved the other man but god was it hard to deal with sometimes; he wanted to throttle the dumb self-sacrificing fool just about as much as he wanted to kiss him till they both ran out of breath. Right now though – right now all he wanted was for Gavin to be whole and healthy and back to his usual goofy self.

"We just got you back," Michael mumbled after a few wordless minutes, careful to loosen his hold on Gavin’s hand so he didn’t crush it. "Just – let me, let me have this."

The look Gavin leveled him with was full of a sort of bemused fondness but he only nodded and smiled tiredly. "Alright, boy."

The thing was, when Michael looked at Gavin's face for too long, his lungs seized up and his heart kind of felt like it was on fire – he was so stupidly in love that it hurt. But would he ever say anything to the Brit? No, probably-most-definitely-never, because he was a complete chicken and terrified of losing the easy camaraderie that he had with his best friend and wouldn't be able to stand it if they lost that. He knew that Gavin would always be his friend and would do everything to keep things from getting awkward between them – that's just who he was – but Michael didn't know if that was something he could do as well.

"How are you feeling," he eventually asked when the silence got too thick.

Gavin sighed, causing a small coughing fit, and Michael was immediately put on guard by the look of pain on the other man's face. What a dumb question; of course Gavin wasn't feeling great! He'd literally almost died only a week ago! Michael internally slapped himself while gently rubbing the blonde's back as his hacking slowly decreased. He handed over a glass of water when Gavin's lungs had calmed down and watched him sip it.

"I've been better," Gavin eventually replied in a gravelly voice. "Feels a bit like I've been hit by a truck but I'm alive, so there's that."

Michael helped him lean back again on his pillows. "I'd prefer it if you'd stay that way too."

"You're getting soft in your old age."

_Only for you._ "Yeah, well, at least I'm keeping my bullet wound scars to a minimum of five a year, unlike some people I know."

Sounding like someone who had smoked their whole life, Gavin huffed out a short laugh, careful to not start another coughing fit. "Not the same level but alright, you've got me there." He grinned over at Michael with that look that he only ever gave to him. "I'm glad you're here to keep me company though, even if I'm a bit of a mess."

The ever-building weight of emotions behind Michael's thick wall of stubbornness swelled, a massive wave of overwhelming and devastating affection fighting to erupt right from his chest. It would be easy, so easy, to let go and just let everything pour out, but still he held it back. Gavin didn't need his confession right now – didn't need it at all, really. Things were fine as they were.

Except then Gavin would look at him like he was doing right then, the tiniest of hints of something floating around in his gaze, and Michael would let himself think, just for a second, that maybe it would be ok. He dreamed of it all the time, of him and Gavin being almost exactly as they were but more. He wanted to be able to hold the other man's hand whenever the hell he wanted, not just when Gavin was in recovery; he wanted to cradle the Brit's body in his arms without blood soaking into their clothes; he wanted to be able to stare and not feel guilty. A tall order, sure, but Michael allowed himself the indulgence of dreaming. How could he, volatile and crass as he was, ever hope to be enough for the Golden Boy, a man who – as far as Michael was concerned – was born of the sun itself?

There was a slight tap at the door and then Jack was stepping into the room, a tray of tea and two bowls of soup in her hands. Setting it down on the nightstand, she addressed the two of them with warm eyes. "Figured you both could use some food."

"Thanks Jack," Gavin responded with a smile. "You're the best."

"I know, but it's good you do too," Jack joked. She glanced down at Michael and Gavin's clasped hands and gave Michael a knowing look. "Don't forget what I mentioned earlier, either."

Gavin's eyes flicked between Jack and Michael, confusion clear on his face. "What'd you mention?"

"Don't worry about it," Michael ground out, heat spreading across his features.

Earlier, after Gavin had been brought home but before he'd regained consciousness, Jack had cornered Michael and warned him that the longer he waits to tell Gavin how he feels, the higher the possibility that he'd miss his chance all together. _We almost lost him this time_ , she'd said, not unkindly. _He deserves to know, and it'll hurt so much more if you never say anything and we can't save him like we did this time_. She'd made perfect sense, she always did, but Michael had long ago resolved to never say anything and it wouldn’t be easy to make him change his mind.

Jack gave him another pointed look and walked out of the room. "Just think about it, Michael."

After the door clicked shut, the room went silent once more and Michael couldn't even look in Gavin's direction, could only stare at the bed sheets. The tension practically ate him up from the inside out, his very bones aching from it. Where did they go from there? He cursed Jack for leaving him like this.

"What did-" Gavin stopped himself, the hand he held Michael's with tightening almost imperceptibly. "What did Jack mean? When she said to think about it."

God, Gavin knew, didn't he? That Jack had been talking about something that had to do with him? Despite what some people might think and the persona he often presented, the Brit was incredibly intelligent and deceptively observant – there was no way that Michael would be able to get out of this even though he wanted nothing more than to just get up and leave and he was a fool to think he ever could keep it all hidden forever.

"She, uh, told me to – she told me to tell you..." Michael finally stuttered out; he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Tell me what?" And oh, why did Gavin have to sound so _soft?_

For one more selfish second, Michael considered lying; he could make something up about how Jack wanted him to keep an eye on Gavin, or talk to him about what happened during the heist, but Gavin would know – he always knew when Michael was lying, because there was no other person on the planet besides Gavin that knew Michael better than he knew himself.

It wasn’t until he felt Gavin’s thumb lightly rubbing back and forth across his knuckles that Michael was able to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”

Gavin chuckled. “Course I do, boi; I love you too.”

“No – I mean, yeah, I know, but-” Michael looked up and grimaced at Gavin’s innocently bewildered expression; he was really going to have to just outright say it, wasn’t he? He looked back down at their hands. “But this is different than that.”

The other man shifted on the bed. “How do you mean?” When there was no response, Gavin reached out with his other hand and placed it on Michael’s arm. “Michael?”

This was so stupid – this was so _stupid!_ This was his best friend, for Christ’s sake! He should be able to tell him anything without fear, without feeling as if his stomach was going to drop right out of his gut. Michael closed his eyes.

“I mean – god dammit – I mean that I _love_ you.” There was silence and Gavin stopped moving. “Like, more than, than just – this.”

More silence. The more time passed, the more Michael wanted to run the fuck away and probably throw up a little bit. Gavin still hadn’t moved.

Finally, after what felt like years, Gavin spoke; he sounded choked up and a little unsure. “Do you mean it?”

Michael almost deigned to believe he also heard a little hope in those words. “Yeah Gav, I mean it.”

Trembling fingers left Michael’s arm and instead tucked themselves under his jaw to lift his head up. Brown eyes met hazel and Gavin smiled at him so softy that Michael’s heart stopped in his chest for a split second. The blonde slowly brought their still joined hands up and pressed Michael’s palm into his chest; Gavin’s heart pounded under his fingertips, somehow faster than Michael’s own. The very air vibrated with their combined pulses.

“Good, because I was really hoping I wasn’t imagining things.”

Michael found himself leaning closer, body still not quite recovered from how Gavin was looking at him. “Are you – do you-” All of his thoughts and words kept getting tangled in his mouth before he could say them out loud.

Gavin though – he had enough words for them both, and there weren’t even that many left to be said anyway.

“I love you too.”

The breath in Michael’s throat caught as Gavin lifted their hands up so he could kiss each of Michael’s fingers, one by one, all while never taking his eyes off of him. The fire burning in Michael’s chest threatened to consume him and that wave of feelings kept at bay by pure bullheadedness? It came crashing down along with the walls that had kept him safe from his own admissions for so long. Every nerve in his body was alight and every time Gavin’s lips touched his skin, Michael’s heart stuttered.

It felt unreal, like a dream – a really, really good dream. Years of yearning for this, for Gavin to to look at him like this and to touch him so tenderly, and Michael finally let it all wash over him. Joy and happiness and incredulity flitted across Gavin’s face and Michael could tell that those same emotions were reflected on his own expression too. Even when the Brit stopped kissing his fingers, Michael still held on tight and stared at the face of the man he’d been in love with for years until he couldn’t take it any more.

Gavin’s lips were chapped, and he tasted a little funny from being unconscious for a week, but Michael didn’t give a single damn. The edge of the bed pressed into his thigh uncomfortably and he had to pull Gavin over by the front of his shirt to kiss him yet nothing had ever felt more right. It wasn’t even that impressive of a kiss, just a firm yet gentle press of lips, though it still left Michael breathless.

“ _Oh_ ,” Gavin whispered when they parted. Then he leaned in again and this time the kiss was _more_.

Time didn’t matter – they kissed until they felt winded, and then they kissed a little more just because they could. At some point Gavin pulled Michael into the bed so they could lay on their sides together, facing each other, and so he could find a position more comfortable for his injured state. They only stopped when Michael noticed the blonde flinching more than once.

“We should stop,” he told Gavin, kissing him on the tip of his nose anyway. “You still need to recover.”

Gavin pouted at him. “But we just started!”

“No buts, Gav.” Michael kissed his forehead this time.

“Aw, I thought you liked my butt-”

Michael was careful to jab his finger into a spot on Gavin’s side that wasn’t bruised or bandaged. “Shut up.”

Laughing quietly, Gavin smiled tiredly. “Yeah yeah, I know.” He turned onto his back again with a grunt and pulled Michael’s arm over his waist. “Stay with me though?”

Where else would Michael go? Where else _could_ he go, when Gavin was right there? It would have been extremely difficult to get him to go anywhere as things were before but now, when he was finally able to hold the other man in his arms and knew that they shared the same love? No, it would be impossible to move him now.

He stared into Gavin’s eyes, sleep clearly already coming in fast, and raised his hand to carefully cup the other man’s face, thumb swiping across his cheekbone reverently. All of the love, all of the care and devotion, swelled in his chest, and Michael smiled, at peace for the first time in a very long time.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Here's to doing a complete 180 and ditching my (former) fav pairing with one I never thought I'd write for! Let me know how I did - comments fuel my soul. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) so we can yell at each other - I recently became obsessed with MDZS, so hit me up if you want to scream into the void too.
> 
> Keep an eye out for my next big fic! I've got 39k coming your way in the next week or so >:D


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